


soulmates are hardly sure-fire

by Shadow_Bringer



Series: MadaTobi Week Prompts [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, M/M, MadaTobi Week 2020, One-Sided Attraction, Poor Madara, Soulmates AU, my hand slipped, winged au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23764690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Bringer/pseuds/Shadow_Bringer
Summary: Madara has lost the battle before it’s even begun but he doesn’t realize it until he meets those frigid red eyes, shades darker than the sharingan but just right for thick blood.———2020 Week 4Sci-Fi AU ORWinged AUThere Was Only One BedOR Not Realizing They’re Already Dating
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: MadaTobi Week Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721632
Comments: 18
Kudos: 197





	soulmates are hardly sure-fire

Madara cards his fingers absently through Izuna’s dark feathers. His younger brother hardly reacts, a testament to how normal the habit has become for him. Loose feathers come away every now and again and he straightens the stray, crooked feathers but Izuna’s wings are remarkably well groomed. Not really a surprise, considering how highly his younger brother values his looks, but nonetheless amazing. Madara has never been able to keep his feathers as neatly layered, despite his best efforts. They fluff out and bristle with the slightest emotion. Izuna compares them to his hair often and Madara tosses him into the koi pond any time the brat mentions it. His hair and feathers are _fine_ , thank you very much.

Not everyone has wings. Hikaku, for example. If you have wings, however, it means you have a soulmate. Your inner feathers, those easiest to hide, are the colour of your soulmate’s wings. It’s not a very effective system and many people never find their soulmates. You don’t _need_ a soulmate to fall in love, after all. Izuna has found his soulmate. That vicious Senju that’s always around Tobirama and, to a lesser degree, Hashirama. Once they found each other, the bloody-brown of Izuna’s inner feathers melted away, leaving the same shiny black the rest of his feathers have.

They’ve been dating ever since and it’s absolutely terrifying.

Madara hasn’t found his own soulmate, yet. He had originally thought his soulmate was Tobirama, what with the snowy white of his inner feathers. It would certainly fit the younger man’s looks, especially so with the red decorating some of the feathers. He had, admittedly, _hoped_ it was Tobirama, because that would make getting the man to date him would be a whole lot easier. After all, who can hate their soulmate? Alas, Madara doesn’t even know if Tobirama has wings, much less the colour of his soulmate’s feathers. The younger man is almost always wearing a cloak and rarely has his back to Madara. Left over caution from the Warring Era, he supposes.

Madara tugs on his little brother’s ponytail, quickly ducking when black wings fling backwards as Izuna squawks in outrage. He laughs, scrambling away from the punch Izuna throws in retribution.

”I am going to _gut you_!” Izuna hisses. It would be very terrifying if Madara hasn’t seen his brother stab himself in the foot when attempting to show off for a girl.

”I’ll toss you in the pond,” he threatens.

”I’m in the middle of a courting, you insensitive fuck!” Izuna screeches, throwing a vase at him. Madara doesn’t have any clue as to where he got the vase, since they have long since learned that vases don’t survive in this house, but he ducks regardless. He’s not just going to _let_ it hit him, after all.

”I’d be doing Touka a favour, if she hasn’t already realized how inelegant you are,” he retorts, grabbing the leg of a nearby chair to toss at his brother.

”Ex _cuse me_? _I’m_ the inelegant one-?!” Izuna’s shrieking is cut off by the sound of someone clearly their throat. Both of them freeze, Izuna halfway through launching a couch cushion and Madara with a second chair in his grasp. He glances at the door and, to his his absolute horror, sees Tobirama standing in the doorway. The albino is taking in the chaos of the Uchiha household with a distant exasperation that has embarrassment coursing through Madara in half a second. He drops the chair in his hands, wincing when it clatters loudly against the floor in the silence.

”Senju,” he says, voice tight as he tries not to flee from the embarrassment. “What are you doing here?” His voice is several octaves too high and he can only hope that Tobirama doesn’t notice. Red eyes lift from the mess that used to be a vase, meeting Madara’s eyes.

”You and I have been assigned a mission by Anija. I came to retrieve you.” Madara straightens up fully, patting down his clothes. He clears his throat and hopes with everything in him that Tobirama magically forgets what he just saw as soon as they leave the house.

”Right, yeah, of course. What’s the mission?” Izuna skirts around Madara, trying to get out of the line of fire. Feathers brush against Madara’s for a short second (comfort and love or, as is more likely in this case, a teasing reminder) before his younger brother disappears upstairs. Tobirama steps fully into the house, pulling the door shut behind him. Red eyes scan the length of floor between them, lingering for several heartbeats on the scattering of ceramic, and the albino decides that it would be too much hassle to come any closer.

”The town of Kengawa has reported suspicious activity and asked us to deal with it. It’s unlikely we’ll be gone more than a week.” Madara nods shortly, making his way carefully to a nearby desk. Izuna’s, he believes, but it’s not like the brat ever _uses_ it, anyway. To be fair, they have like seventeen desks for some reason but it’s not like Izuna uses any of _those_ either. His little brother is just lazy. Madara fishes a bag from the bottom drawer. Having learned from experience how much it sucks to be forced onto a mission with no warning, Madara started the practice of over-preparing when he was younger. What he means by that is, at the beginning of every week, he stashes bags with travel scrolls all over the house to replace any that were used or lost or otherwise damaged. As a result, you can find one of the nondescript brown bags pretty much anywhere you look. He grabs his gunbai from it’s place on the wall. It serves as a decent decoration when both he and Izuna are home and it means he won’t ever lose it (again- he refuses to have a repeat of the Incident).

”Right,” he says, turning his attention to Tobirama, who’s beginning to look impatient. “Shall we?”

* * *

It takes a day of traveling to get to Kengawa. They hadn’t bothered to rush since showing up tired wouldn’t have done them any good. As such, when they finally get to the small town, the first thing they do in hunt down the only inn in town. All of this would be fine if the _only_ available room had more than one bed. One. Madara and Tobirama are _two_ people.

The Senju doesn’t seem to have realized the problem, making himself at home in the small room they’ll be sharing for the foreseeable future. There’s no couch and Madara wonders, not for the first time, if it would be better if he found a nice tree to sleep in.

”Should we inform our client that we have arrived?” Madara asks, desperate to forestall the surely horrible night to come. Tobirama gives him a look that tells him _exactly_ what the albino thought of _that_ idea.

”Our client likely won’t want to be disturbed at this hour,” Tobirama says stiffly. “It can wait until the morning. I suggest we get some sleep so we can deal with as swiftly as possible.” Madara swallows thickly but nods his acquisition. The Senju disappears into the bathroom and Madara takes the alone time first to panic silently and then to change as quickly as he humanly can. He doesn’t imagine he’ll get too much rest with the man he is head over heels for next to him in the bed but he’s going to try, dammit.

When Tobirama returns from the bathroom, it’s in sleep clothes and a cloak. Madara eyes him but doesn’t say anything. They get themselves situated for the night in an awkward silence that he would love to break but anytime he goes to say something, Tobirama side-eyes him with a look that says the Senju would prefer he didn’t. Madara ends up on top of the blankets, his fiery chakra having a fit that makes him feel too hot as he tries with the last grasping straws of his sanity not to do something stupid. Tobirama, on the other hand, slips beneath the covers easily, not even bother to entertain Madara with a look. Needless to say, it takes him a while to relax enough to go to sleep.

When he wakes, it’s to snowy white lined with bloody red. He blinks slowly, staring at the lithe wing draped across his chest. When the wing shifts ever-so-slightly, Madara can see the inner feathers are an inky black speckled with tiny pinpricks of white. The feathers look surprisingly similar to the night sky. Madara blinks again. He shifts carefully into a sitting position and the wing thumps softly onto his lap. Beside him, Tobirama shifts but doesn’t wake, not quite yet. Madara lifts a hand, brushing it over the wing. The feathers are soft and fluffy in a way they shouldn’t be, almost brittle-feeling. The wing snaps away from him and Madara watches in amazement as the black feathers on the underside melt away into white and red as Tobirama springs from the bed.

Madara found his soulmate.

 _Tobirama_ is Madara’s soulmate.

Then Madara registers Tobirama. Red eyes cold and dangerous, wings flared in the anger the Senju would never otherwise show. He gets up as well, lips pulled into a frown. This isn’t right. Tobirama should be _overjoyed_ , finding a soulmate is amazing and oh so very rare.

_(Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s always known Tobirama hates him. The albino made easy friends with Izuna and Hikaku and little Kagami, with Uchiha civilians and shinobi and children, but never with Madara himself. Tobirama doesn’t trust him, doesn’t like him, avoids him at all possible points._

_He doesn’t say or show it, but it hurts._

_It hurts more than Madara can stand so he **buries** **it**.)_

”This changes nothing,” Tobirama says coldly. Madara winces and takes a step forward, trying to make the Senju _understand_ , but the other man bares his teeth, body coiled to attack or run.

”Tobirama,” he says and he knows how he sounds. He can hear the pleading note in his voice but Tobirama seems to only draw farther away, for all that he doesn’t actually move.

” _Nothing_ ,” Tobirama repeats and Madara’s breath catches. He knows he’s lost, now. He knows there is no way for him to sway his soulmate.

_(Later, he wonders if this isn’t what started it all, what allowed Madara to fall prey to the Curse. He could never harm Konoha, not when his soulmate’s touch was so clear in everything but Zetsu pushed him **on** and **on**._

_Wouldn’t it be funny, though? That Tobirama himself was the catalyst of what he had always feared Madara would turn into?)_

**Author's Note:**

> When Madara and Tobirama return to the village, Hashirama takes one look at them and _knows_. Tobirama brushes past him without a look or acknowledging word. Hashirama looks between his brother and Madara and chooses Madara.
> 
> Chooses Madara like he’s always chosen and he can’t help but think that perhaps it would be better if Hashirama had chosen Tobirama.
> 
> He lets himself fall apart in his best friend’s arms and, when he’s through, doesn’t mention the growing numbness in his chest.


End file.
